


No More Pressing Engagements

by bookworm83197



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Crack, Dismemberment, Gen, Post-Devil May Cry 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-12-27 02:33:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18295088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookworm83197/pseuds/bookworm83197
Summary: Vergil will brook no distractions in his conflict with his brother.





	No More Pressing Engagements

**Author's Note:**

  * For [squallina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/squallina/gifts).



> For a certain friend, who has listened to and encouraged my rampant shitposting since the game dropped. ❤
> 
> TW: Irreverent handling of a human head bereft of the rest of the body. Vergil was not properly house-trained.

She took a deep breath, before pushing open the door. The man in red sitting behind the desk didn't even look up from his magazine.  
"Hey there, bathroom's out back if you need it."

  
"Actually, I'm here to hire you for a job." She wrung the strap of her bag nervously. "There's a group of local cultists who claimed the Demon Tree that sprouted in Red Grave City was an omen of things to come. They've prepared to summon a demon to usher in the next phase of the apocalypse." She swallowed hard. "My contact informed me of your rates, and I can pay your commission up front."

  
"What? Oh come on," Dante moaned, "we haven't even finished cleaning up the last invasion!" He levered himself out of his chair with a grumble. A set of frost-covered nunchucks and-was that a cowboy hat?-swiftly disappeared into the folds of his battered red duster. "Not that I don't care, ma'am, and I do need the money," a pair of pistols were next, these going into more mundane holsters at hip, "but I was really hoping for some more downtime before the next big supernatural threat."

  
The door suddenly creaked open again. She whipped around, hands tightening around her weapons. What if the cult had tracked her here? She thought wildly, staring at the dark cloaked figure standing in the doorway.

  
The figure spoke. "Dante," it declared, "I've come to settle our score."

  
Dante shrugged, "Sorry, Vergil, I'm busy today," he reached behind his desk and pulled out a _shotgun_ , which also miraculously disappeared-his coat wasn't even weighed down. "This lady's just come in with a problem, and she's paying to have it taken care of."

  
Vergil scoffed, "Irrelevant." He stepped further into the office, removing his hood. So here was the second Son of Sparda. He looked almost the spitting image of Dante, but his face was sterner, the jut of his chin more pugnacious. "I'll not have you brush me off, Dante." He slightly lifted the katana in his right hand, and she tensed, ready to flee or fight as need be.

  
"Look, _you_ may have been globetrotting for the past few decades, but not all of use are so lucky," Dante called over his shoulder as he made his way to a wall hanging with various tools and weapons. He took down a matched pair of red and blue scimitars, weighing them in his hands, before making a face and replacing them. "And as much as I'd love to relive the old times with you, I have to make rent." He shuddered. " _And_ pay back Lady for watching the office."

 

Vergil's eyes narrowed. "...Exactly what manner of foe are you being engaged to dispatch?"

  
Dante pointed at his client. "A powerful demon, being summoned by a cult nearby," she supplied hastily. "They're planning on conducting the actual ritual in a fallow field just outside the city limits, because there's no other empty space large enough to draw their summoning circles-"  
"Enough." Vergil cut her off. He turned and walked back out of the office.

  
When the doors slammed shut, Dante turned around from where he had been hefting an electric guitar in one hand. "Oh, did he leave? Sorry about his manners, he wasn't socialized properly when we were growing up." He made the guitar vanish in the same mannner as his other tools, and brushed down the front of his jacket. "Well, I'm ready, do you need to come with me?"

  
She nodded. "I parked my car outside, we can take that-" She was cut off as the doors of the office slammed open once again.

 

It was Vergil again, this time minus his rain cloak. He wielded his unsheathed katana in his right hand, and held a dripping bundle in his left.

  
Dante drew a pistol and pointed it at Vergil. "Don't you dare drip blood on my flooring, you have no idea what a bitch that is to get out," he said.  
Vergil rolled his eyes, but obligingly held the bundle over the front stoop, under the awning. "Well?" he demanded. "I have dealt with the problem. I brought the leader's head back as proof."

  
"What?" Dante holstered his pistol and stomped over to Vergil. "Aw, come on, I just got ready to leave." He took the bundle from Vergil, who flicked his had in distaste before swiftly sheathing his katana. "Yup, it's a head alright," he announced, peering into the makeshift sack. "Hey ma'am, do you recognize the sigil on the cloth? Pentagram with Sulphur in the middle, surrounded by an ouroboros?"

  
"Y-yes, that's their symbol," she stammered, "but how-"

  
"Then it is done." Vergil sounded satisfied. "Pay his fee and leave." He watched as she withdrew a check from her purse, bewildered, and hastily scrawled her signature across the bottom before sliding it under the phone on the desk. She scurried out, flinching away from where Dante was still holding the blood-soaked bundle of cloth, got in her car and quickly left. Both twins watched her tailights vanish around a bend. Vergil turned back to his brother.

  
"Now," he smacked the head out of Dante's grip with the sheathed Yamato. Dante made a noise of complaint as it rolled away and fetched up near the trash cans. "There is nothing to distract you from our fight."

  
Dante sighed. "Yeah, yeah, whatever," he grumbled, "just lemme put the check away." He was in and out of the office in two minutes, looking moodily out at the unceasing rain. "Shitty weather to be fighting in, mud's going to get into everything."

  
Vergil scoffed, hand clenching around Yamato's sheath. "Since when has that ever stopped us?"

  
Dante smirked, mirroring Vergil's grin. "Fair point." He suddenly summoned Balrog and struck out at his brother, who flashed out of the way in the nick of time. Dante brought his fists up to his chest, feeling his smirk stretch into a manic grin. "Let's rock!"


End file.
